It gets a bad press in the schoolyard
where children often scold.
But given a choice
between ginger and bald
I’d rather have red hair
when i grow old.
— I’d dye it, of course

If I was fruit
I’d be orange.
If i was spice
I’d be ginger.
If i were animal
I’d be fox.
If I were hair
then I’d be dyed.

Long and wavy
and shining like sun
her golden hair
smiles “we have more fun”
Straightened or curled
or tied in a bun
it came from a bottle
she fooled everyone.

Peroxide hides
the truth of her head
Not cimson but sandy
her locks are instead.
Nobody knows
her folicles are red
Apart from the boys
who frolic in her bed.